


Around the Firepit

by amyfortuna



Series: 2016 Season of Kink (Card 1) [17]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Other, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 08:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8154983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: Húrin and Huor are travelling with a group of their men to Barad Eithel, and they pass the evening telling naughty stories about love between Men and Elves.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fulfils my Season of Kink square for pornography.

"I thought the Elf-kind were all chaste and cold! You don't mean to tell me you've _had_ one of them!" The voice was that of a relative youth, lifted in disbelief, and all the older men around the firepit laughed outrageously. 

Húrin glanced across at Huor with a careful, warning glance. Huor lifted his eyebrows as if to say, _I know, brother, you don't need to warn me not to talk_. 

"Elves may be prettier than us, lad, but by and large they want the same things we do," an older man was saying to the boy now, with the air of someone imparting a confidence. "You get them warmed up for you, and you're in for the night of your life. Absolutely ruin you for all but the prettiest of our women, I tell you that." He took a drink from the mug he was holding, and nodded firmly, as if remembering pleasant things. 

"That why you married Elinal, is it, Dareth?" Húrin said with a laugh, and the group took it up with him - Elinal was older than Dareth by a good five years, and by the best of standards could only be referred to as 'homely'. 

"We get on," Dareth said. "We understand each other." He turned back to the youth next to him. "Should warn you about Elves, though. Pretty they may be and hot in bed, but they have their limits. Weird marriage customs." He looked around at the rest of the group, who were all leaning in, listening avidly, and lowered his voice. "It's all about the union of bodies, for them, marriage is. Oh, you're fine using your hand, or sucking each other off, or thrusting between thighs - " an appreciative murmur arose from the group "- but don't ask about sticking your prick up their tight little arses, or they'll think you're proposing marriage, and that, my friends, is an awkward conversation." 

"It's true, you know," another voice said from across the fire, and a young freckled man held out his mug for more ale. Huor found the ale jug next to his feet, and filled it up for him, as the rest of the group waited for his tale. "I was completely mad for this Elf, his name was Branel, when I was only a little older than you are now, Rand -" he gestured to the boy who had exclaimed in disbelief earlier "- wanted to do everything, and I do mean everything, with him, so I asked him to fuck me, proper fuck me, and he started going on about betrothal periods and gold and silver rings, and vows to the One, all of that. Twigged me out completely. I wanted a fuck, not forever. Obviously I was going to get married, have children, all of that." He shook his head. "Elves. Have them all you like, but keep your heart out of it."

"No doubt they say the same of us," Huor said then, gesturing to the group at large. "You will have all heard the wisdom of the House of Beor's wise-woman, Andreth, and of her talks with Lord Felagund. We are little more than moths to their lifespans -"

"Although perhaps more dearly loved," Húrin said, breaking in, changing the subject before it went down too maudlin a route for a campfire chat. "But I have not met any of the lords of Barad Eithel yet, men - tell me of them. What do you have to say of the High King, the lord Fingon?" 

Dareth spoke up, with a smile, clearly remembering pleasant times. "Lord Fingon - High King Fingon as I should say - was always held in high honour as commander of his father's armies, and it was well deserved. As King, he is most gracious, kind and generous, even as his father was, but there is a light in him that I could not see in King Fingolfin, long as I served under him. He has true hope that we will win this war, cast down our Black Foe and live free. He is a friend to all and bears no grudges against any save the one who slew his father and his father's father, as is only right."

The group was nodding collectively, and one of the other men spoke up. "He beat back a dragon, so the legends tell, a great beast of fire and cunning, whose like we hope not to see in this world again." 

"Ah, yes, Minan, but what is he like in bed?" It was Dareth who asked the question, cheekily grinning across the fire. 

"How do you think I know?" Minan spluttered, setting the ale jug down so hard a little splashed out. 

"We've heard rumours!" Rand piped up, and then subsided again. 

"So we have, Minan, spill your tale," another man said, taking the ale jug away. "Or you'll not get the ale back tonight!" 

"Oh very well, Bregor," Minan said, and everyone leaned forward to listen. Húrin glanced away from the fire for a moment, checking that the surroundings were safe. The guard on watch, just out of earshot, caught his glance, and nodded back at him. 

"He was still Lord Fingon back then, and I was much younger, without this grey beard and these battle scars. We were out with a small patrol on the plain of Ard-Galen as it was then, beating back the ever-present bands of Orcs that roamed hither and yon, only checked by our patrols. Caught unawares by a larger band than usual, we gave them battle but were beaten back, until we reached an abandoned village north of Barad Eithel, and went to ground there for the night, splitting up into groups of twos and threes to hide. Fingon and I ended up in an old barn, tucked away in the corner of a haymow." 

Minan glanced around at the group; they were hanging on his every word. "He asked me if I was comfortable and offered to let me sleep. But I was too fired up - all parts of me were fired up, you understand! - and couldn't. We were snuggled in close, quiet as mice, and there was something poking me in the hip." He cocked an eyebrow. "Guess what?" 

An anticipatory grin flashed around the group. "He was hard too, as hard as I was, and we, well. It was a very pleasant evening after all, even if I didn't get any sleep." 

"Oh, come on!" Dareth said. "That's not nearly detailed enough. What did you do with him?" 

Minan made a rude gesture. "We sucked each other off. My lord has a mouth like you wouldn't believe. In the morning we emerged to find the battle renewed, and a relief force of Eldar from Eithel coming to help out. We routed those Orcs. I was on fire, let me tell you. I don't think I've killed so many then or since. I kept thinking about his mouth on me. I've never been able to get him out of my head since, despite marriage and children, but he's never looked twice at me again. Still, though, if you must fall in hopeless love with one of them, our King is no bad choice." 

"You should write a book, Minan," Huor said. "An erotic collection of tales of love between Men and Eldar. I'm sure that more than a few of us here would be more than happy to contribute!" 

"Why, Huor," Dareth said. "I wasn't aware you'd been to Barad Eithel before." 

"Oh," Huor said. "I haven't...I met one of the Eldar in the woods once...I was much younger then." He was blushing a little, and couldn't quite keep from stammering.

"Brother, please don't!" Húrin cut in, laughing. "I really don't need to hear that sort of tale from my innocent little niblet."

Huor put on a disgusted face and made a gesture as of throwing something at him, but overall he looked relieved to have been rescued. Húrin turned back to the group. "Well, as much as I hate to break up our merry gathering, the night grows late, and we ride early, so to our bedrolls, folks. And if you must 'think' -" he made an expressive gesture "- about what we've discussed tonight, for Varda's sake be silent about it!" 

There was a collective groan, but then everyone began to stand up and stretch, heading off to get into their blankets for the night. A few of the men paired off, bunking down together, exchanging whispers. As usual, Huor made his way over to Húrin, setting his bedroll down next to Húrin's. 

"So," Húrin said, as they settled down side by side. "I think _you_ should write that book."

"I can't possibly," Huor said fiercely, "and you know why."

"I know," Húrin said with a smile. "I'm just teasing. The exploits of whatever Elf you managed to lay in...the woods...will just have to remain between you and him." 

"I'm fine with that," Huor said, and settled down for sleep.


End file.
